Mr Monk and the Maid
by Monkish Otaku
Summary: Monk takes in a murder victim's homeless, jobless maid. Chapter 4 at long last is finally up 7 15 06... Monk comforts Ivette and surprises Natalie.
1. Prolouge

A/N: Here's another story from yours truly! I think this one'll really have you guys in stitches! As you can see, this one is a drama-edy (no romance, sorry). Just wait until later chapters. You all will probably think I'm nuts for what's in there, but I promise, you'll love it! Anyway, I owe my inspiration to the author of _"Welcome to Marley-verse!"_ in the _"Complete Savages"_ category.

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Prologue

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It was dark in the home of a middle aged woman by the name of Margaret Zahos. The only light that radiated through the livingroom was from a tiny Mag flashlight., held by a gloved hand. The intruder's face was covered by a ski mask, and, to make sure that absolutely no one could see his eye, he had painted black circles around them. The intruder began to slowly slink over to a big oak desk near the far wall in the dark livingroom. He placed the small flashlight underneath his arm and began to search through one of the desk drawers. His head popped up at a sudden sound. He looked up at the stairs behind him and saw a woman - Miss Zahos. 

The frightened woman screamed in fear and ran back upstairs to her bedroom to call 9-1-1. The man followed behind her. Soon, he was right behind her. He pulled out a knife and (with one last scream for the woman) stabbed her unmercifully.

* * *

Ivette Gonzales awoke with a start. She listened attentively for any sound. Any sort of sound that would interrupt the silence of her employer's house. She snapped her head toward the door as she heard a booming sound. She pulled back the quilt that lay on top of her and placed her feet onto the cold, wooden floor. She shivered slightly as she cautiously moved to the door. She stopped cold in her tracks and gasped when her bedroom door flew open, revealing a man with dark makeup around his eyes. 

The intruder that had stabbed the maid's employer had his mask ripped off in the struggle. He leered at Ivette as he ogled her up and down her shapely body. He walked toward her, an evil deed running through his mind.

_

* * *

_

_Theme Song_

_It's a jungle out there_

_Disorder and confusion everywhere_

_No one seems to care_

_Well, I do_

_Hey, who's in charge here?_

_It's a jungle out there_

_Poison in the very air we breath_

_You know what's in the water that you drink?_

_Well I do and it's a-ma-zing_

_People think I'm crazy_

'_Cause I worry all the time_

_You'd pay attention you'd be worried too_

_You better pay attention or this world we love so much_

_Might._

_Just._

_Kill you._

_I could be wrong now_

_But I don't think so_

'_Cause it's a jungle out there, it's a jungle out there._


	2. Ivette

A/N: I know it's been a while since I last updated and I am sorry for that. But things happen, you know. I've also been working hard on my "wordiness." I learned that the common mistake that young fiction writers make is that they use adjectives to describe how someone said something. So, unless it is called for, I will not be doing that. Anyway, shoutouts!

**

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****Smeeeee-kc-dm-fan:** Thanks for reading! And thanks for pointing out my error. I do proofread before posting, but I guess when I do that to my own work, things become over looked. I read your story, by the way. I like it! When are you going to update? 

**Monker:** I tried not to leave you hanging like that but things happen. Thanks for your kind words and I love your story "Getting Closer"! Update soon! Please? Pretty please?

**bringirl2001:** I don't know how I could write a "Monk" fic and have no romance in it. I guess I just didn't feel like writing another romance story since I wasn't pleased with the last one.

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Chapter One: Ivette

* * *

"Mr. Monk, please." Natalie Teeger begged her boss. She was getting close to falling down onto her boss's bedroom floor, but not to beg - it would be to grab the man by his arm and yank him up off his knees.

The man in question was down on his hands and knees. . .beside his bed. . .with a vacuum cleaner. . .fighting what seemed to his assistant a losing battle with a dust bunny. . .a very small dust bunny. So small, that only Adrian Monk's trained, detective, obsessive/compulsive eye could see it. Monk grunted as he stretched his arm even further under the bed. "Just. . .a. . .few. . .more–HA!" With a triumphant, and victorious grin, he pulled his hand holding the vacuum hose out form under the bed. He stood up and turned off the whirring machine that slowly hummed off. He then brushed the dust from his pants leg. He looked up at Natalie, maintaining his victory smile. "Now we can go."

Natalie rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air. She turned towards the bedroom entry way. "Finally!The captain wanted us at the scene twenty minutes ago!" As she made her way down the hall, she readjusted her purse strap that kept falling down. Monk closely followed her out, watching her (in horror) twist the purse strap around. He reached up to fix the rebellious strap, but Natalie turned around suddenly and Monk's hand landed on her cheek.

Natalie blushed, as she smiled and lifted Monk's hand off her cheek. She gave it a pat before she let his hand drop down. Natalie looked up into Monk's eyes and said jokingly, "And here I thought you were a gentleman." She then turned around and continued her walk down the hall. Monk followed again and, after he grabbed his suit jacket, followed Natalie out the door.

The pair arrived at the scene soon later. Monk slipped out of the car (once he was certain the car was at a complete stop) and walked towards the crime scene. Police officers swarmed the site, Monk observed. They walked around as if they were lost, but Monk realized they weren't; they just seemed that way to the onlookers. He took a look at the house in front of him. It was a pretty huge place, the victim must have been the owner of the house.

Stottlemeyer saw Monk from across the yard and walked towards him, annoyance evident on his gruff face. He stopped once he reached the (crooked) police tape and took it upon himself to straighten it out.

Stottlemeyer was getting really agitated at this point. He made a deep, low growl in his throat as he walked up to Monk. Knowing that the detective did not like physical contact, the captain simply stood right behind the man in front of him and shouted, "Monk!"

The man straightening out the police tape suddenly stood straight, covered his ears and screamed.

Stottlemeyer sighed. He grabbed Monk's shoulder and spun him around to face him. "Monk, you need to focus! A woman was killed here last night and her maid–" The captain stopped in mid-sentence, thinking the detective wasn't ready to know what had happened to the young maid.

Monk stood there, waiting for the captain to finish his sentence. "What? What happened to the maid? Was she killed also?" Monk questioned him. Stottlemeyer shook his head. "Well, then what happened to her?" Stottlemeyer walked towards the house and motioned for Monk to follow him.

The puzzled detective followed the captain into the slightly large house that was crawling with police and other detectives. Stottlemeyer soon stopped in front of a scared, young woman of Hispanic decent sitting on a wooden dinning room chair. She looked up at the captain. Monk peered over Stottlemeyer's shoulder at the young woman. She appeared to Monk that she was crying. "Ma'am, this is Detective Adrian Monk," he introduced him to the young woman. "Monk, this Ivette. . ." he paused, trying to find the right words to break the news to his old friend. He knew Monk was very touchy when it came to things like this. He decided that the only good way was to flat out tell him. "She was home when the murder happened. The murderer must have heard her and burst into her room. He uh. . .raped her. . ."


	3. Monk's Offer

A/N: Just you all know, I had a full chapter written up a couple of nights ago, but I wasn't sure of it, so I sent it via e-mail to a friend of mine, but before she even e-mailed me back, I changed my mind and wrote a _completely_ different chapter! Personally, this one is _so_ much better than the other one I wrote. Anyway, I hope everyone's vacation (or whatever) is going well. Know what I noticed? This is my first T (or PG-13, as it used to be in the old days) fic on this site. Or ever, quite frankly. Since I already replied to the reviews I received for the last chapter, I will now proceed to the third chapter!

Chapter Three: Monk's Offer

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As Monk was contemplating turning around and making a hasty retreat, Natalie appeared behind him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, at which, Monk cringed and side-stepped. 

Natalie raised an eyebrow in confusion. _He never did that to me before,_ Natalie thought, wondering what would have happened to cause this sudden regression. "Mr. Monk, is something wrong?" she asked. She only left him alone for five minutes, for crying out loud! What on earth was wrong with that man? It was then she noticed Ivette sitting in the chair, crying. Disher was in a squatting position next to the chair, note pad in his hand, trying to pry any helpful information from the poor woman. With each passing question Ivette's eyes would produce more tears and her sobs would begin again. Randy couldn't take it anymore. He put down his notepad and pen and turned into a "big brother" and patted Ivette's hand comfortingly, saying, "It's okay. We'll find him. I promise."

The wheels in Natalie's mind started turning. Who was this woman? Was she the daughter of the victim? Niece, employee, even? Her mind itched to know the answer. She slid past Monk carefully, so as not to touch him again and perhaps make him regress even further. She then sat on her knees in front of Ivette and her chair. Disher saw this and stopped comforting Ivette long enough to whisper in Natalie's ear about the woman's situation.

Natalie's eyes welled up with tears and she placed a hand over her mouth. She pushed herself up on her knees, flinging her arms around Ivette and pulling her into a tight hug. Ivette cried into Natalie's shoulder, grateful that this strange woman cared enough to let her do just that.

Monk was feeling uncomfortable. He was fine when he himself cried, but when others cried, he felt like running away. Except for Trudy. He remembered those few times when his beloved late wife would cry. He remembered when an aunt of her's he had never even heard of died. As soon as the phone call from her mother came, she had fallen into his strong arms, crying into his chest. He had wrapped his arms around her tightly, as if to block out anything else that would cause his precious Trudy to feel more pain. He would have given the world to prevent her from ever being that upset again. That same feeling was creeping up on him - fast. _I don't even know this woman!_ he told himself. But his sweet, gentleman instincts when it came to those in need that he had thought died along with Trudy reminded him that she may be a stranger, but she needed help. _Trudy would want me to help her. . .Wouldn't she?_ He softly nodded in response to his own, silent question.

When he stopped thinking and asking himself questions, he noticed Natalie was sitting back on her legs, wiping away her tears and Ivette was wiping away her own. Monk rolled his shoulders, as he usually did when he was uncomfortable. Natalie grabbed his attention again unintentionally by speaking up. "I don't think you should stay here," she told Ivette firmly. "You need to go somewhere, like a friend's or a family member's?"

Ivette shook her head. "I don't have any friends," she said. "I don't have any living family, either."

That voice in his head that told Monk Ivette needed protecting was getting louder. It was almost unbearable. This time, though, Monk listened, because Monk had to face it - that voice was_ not_ going to shut up anytime soon. Monk raised a hand in the air, index finger pointing to the ceiling as if he was back in school. "Uh. . .Natalie?" he timidly ventured. Natalie looked up at her boss and waited for him to finish. "Sh-she could. . .you know. . .stay with me?" He had meant it to be a strong statement, but his timid nature turned his strong intentions into a weak question. "I-I could use a maid," he added. He didn't really; his friends knew that. Adrian Monk didn't need a maid, he was one himself!

Natalie stared at Monk as if he had just grown three more heads and four more arms. Ivette jumped up out of her chair and threw her arms around Monk. "Gracias, Senor!" Ivette shouted gleefully.

Natalie saw the horrified look on her boss's face and stood up to help him. She gently pulled Ivette off of Monk and ushered her back to her chair. She looked at Monk sternly. "What are you thinking!" she harshly whispered. "You can't take her in! I bet you wouldn't let _me_ temporarily stay with you!"

"That's not true," he told her. "I'm not so 'self-involved' that I can't help others."

* * *

After a long day of investigations, helping Ivette cope with the doctors at the hospital and the questioning from Stottlemeyer and Disher, Natalie pulled her car up to the curb by Monk's apartment building. For the first time since Natalie worked for him, she saw Monk do something extraordinary - he took out Ivette's lone suitcase from the back of the car (with a wipe, of course) and carried it inside. Natalie was in awe at her employer's actions. 

As Monk lugged the suitcase up to his apartment, Natalie escorted Ivette in the same direction, right behind Monk. When he reached the door, he placed the suitcase down beside him and fished out his keys from his coat pocket. He flung the door open and walked through it, suitcase in hand. He walked into the living room and placed the suitcase beside the couch. He walked to his hall closet and pulled out a blanket, a sheet and a pillow (all of which were in individual air-tight bags) and placed them on the living room couch. He did all this without a single word to any of the two women, who stood in the living room watching him set things up.

Monk was making Ivette a bed on the couch when Natalie walked over and whispered in his ear. "I'm sorry," she said simply. "I was wrong." Monk didn't turn around or even stop ridding the wrinkle that was in the middle of the blanket. He just nodded his head in acknowledgment. That was enough for Natalie. She walked to the door waving. "Good night, guys." she said, as she went out the door.

Ivette walked towards Monk. "Senor Monk," she said.

Monk stopped and turned around to face her, but he didn't look her in the eyes. He seemed uncomfortable being alone with her. _What I've I gotten myself into?_ He pondered.

"I can handle it from here. You look tired, senor. Go to bed, get some rest." She waved her hands at him, like she was gently shooing away a cat. Monk left and retreated to his bedroom. There, he considered taking a shower, but something stopped him. _I can't take a shower with Ivette here! Maybe. . .I'll wait until she falls asleep. Yeah! Then, I don't have to worry about her. . .I should probably get her some towels of her own and get mine out of the bathroom before she uses them, though_. He stood up and rushed to bathroom and opened the door. Unfortunately for both parties, Ivette was in the process of stripping to take a shower. Monk's eyes widened in embarrassment for intruding on Ivette's shower preparations, and quickly closed the door and went back to his bedroom, face crimson red.

_Maybe this wasn't one of my best ideas. . ._


	4. Comfort and Early Morning Surprises

**A/N:** Yes, I know I haven't updated for a while. Writers block and such. Plus, I spent some of my summer days making "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" videos (making music videos is another one of my secret talents/hobbies). But I'm back, and that's what really matters right? I spent some sleepless nights writing this, but hey – my mind is usually… more poetic late at night. Anyway, a warning: It gets pretty sad in this chapter (don't worry, Natalie "Sunshine" Teeger brightens it up a little with a few funny moments), and I think that this is where the T rating comes to play. I apologize in advance if things seem out of character/not possible in real life (and no, I don't know a lot of Spanish, only some words and, like, two phrases). Anyway, I also added a little Natalie scene. She hasn't had much to do in this story except argue (and then apologize) with Monk… Well, don't want to delay you guys anymore… Onward to the long-awaited chapter four!

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Chapter Four: Comfort and Early Morning Surprises

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Ivette turned around and stared at the bathroom door. She could've sworn she had heard the door open. She shrugged it off as being nerves about everything that had happened to her thus far as she finished unbuttoning her blouse.

Once she was completely nude, she turned the shower on and stepped inside. When the water had warmed up considerably, she sighed and let the hot water wash over her tanned skin, hoping that it would rush her troubles down the drain along with the dirt and grime. She picked up her washcloth she brought in with her and scrubbed herself, wanting to rid the feeling of that wretched, evil man's hands on her skin. But no matter how hard she scrubbed; she could still feel him. Ivette suddenly cried out in desperation and fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

After a few moments, she somehow managed to calm herself down. She stood back up, turned the water off and stepped out of the shower to get dressed. But her moment of calm didn't last long. She cried out once more and started to weep again.

* * *

Monk was still mentally kicking himself for intruding on Ivette in the midst of her stripping when he heard a scream. "Ivette…" he said as he rushed out of his bedroom to the hallway. He stopped in front of the bathroom door and shyly knocked. All he heard on the other end was quiet sobbing. He rolled his shoulders in discomfort. "Ivette," he called. "Ivette… are you alright?" 

He heard a very audible sniff. "Uh, si… señor Monk. Just…just a little cold. I-I'm fine, really." But she was lying; right through her teeth. And Monk could tell.

"Are you sure?" he asked, thinking that maybe even she herself wasn't sure.

Silence.

He knocked again. "Ivette?"

More silence.

He was about to leave and retreat to his room, when the bathroom door slowly opened. Ivette came out, dressed in her long cotton nightgown, and simply said two words: "Help me." She then buried her face and her hands into his chest and cried.

Monk was uncomfortable and clueless. He didn't know what to do. Trying to figure out what he should do, he placed his arms behind her. But he didn't touch her. "I…" He moved his arms again, but this time his hands ever-so lightly touched Ivette's back. "I-I don't know how to help you…" he told her softly. He wished he knew. His eyes filled with tears. They were tears for Ivette; and tears for his own incompetence in handiling this. As his sorrow for both their situations built up inside him, he wrapped his arms tight around Ivette, much like he had done for Trudy those times when she was upset, and rested his head on hers. "I don't know… I don't know…" he repeated over and over into her hair.

At one point, he heard that protesting voice speak up again. But he was too distraught to pay any attention to it.

Ivette spoke again, her voice muffled. "Don't leave me," she pleaded. "That is how you can help me."

Monk let a tear drop down, onto Ivettte's hair. "I won't," he swore to her. "Not ever."

* * *

Natalie awoke the next morning anxious. She was anxious about what she would find when she went over to Monk's apartment. Even though Mr. Monk had assured her that he could handle another person staying at his place (a _stranger_, no doubt) the night before, she woke up this morning and said, "There's only one bathroom…" She had rubbed her face tiredly as she swung her feet over the edge of her bed. "Oh, god, there's only one bathroom! He doesn't even let _me_ use it!" 

As she hurried Julie to school, and later rushed over to Monk's, that same thought stuck with her. Odd, yes, but she knew her boss. She thought that he couldn't handle such a change. Not yet, anyway.

After what seemed like hours, she finally reached Monk's place. She ran frantically up the stairs and pounded on his door once she got there. "Mr. Monk!" she called for him. "Mr. Monk, are you okay?"

When he didn't answer, Natalie took out her spare key, cursing herself for being an idiot for not thinking of that in the first place, and opened the door. She quietly walked into the entryway. It all seemed too quiet to her.

* * *

Monk slowly awoke from his sleep. The first thing he felt was the stiffness in his neck. _That's weird…_ he thought. He yawned and took a look around him. He somehow had spent the night on the couch, his feet resting on the coffee table. The next things he noticed that were stiff were his legs. They had been stuck in crossed-over position on the coffee table all night. He carefully lowered them down to the floor. As he did so, he looked over and noticed Ivette. She was curled up on the opposite side of the couch, still in a deep sleep. At first, he wondered why he had fallen asleep on the couch. Then he remembered. He remembered how upset Ivette had been…. The tears…. 

"Oh my god…" he whispered. He pulled at his shirt as looked at it in disgust. "I've got eye juice on me…" He then stood up, thinking of only to go get a shower.

As he walked out, he almost ran into Natalie, who grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him up and down, as if he was sick or something. "Mr. Monk, are you okay?"

Monk stepped out of his assistant's hold. "Yeah, but I have eye juice… tears… on me." He then headed down the hall, bent on taking an extremely long shower.

Natalie just stared down the hall, confused as to what her boss was talking about. She was shaken from her thoughts by Ivette yawning in the living room. Natalie ventured into the room and watched Ivette stretch and finally stand up.

Ivette tried her best to grin at Natalie. "Buenos dias, Natalie." She greeted her.

Natalie, still in shock that Mr. Monk was not going insane at this point, could only wave and give a small smile. "Uh… hi."

For some reason, Natalie had this feeling that Monk was acting strange… for him, that is. She just had to figure out why… Why was he taking in a stranger, when he couldn't even handle the Captain staying at his apartment (she had heard some stories from the Captain himself)? She didn't know, but she was going to find out.


End file.
